


Look What We Started

by ilokheimsins



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Arthur is the black widow, Avengers AU, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Saito is Ironman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-17
Updated: 2016-11-17
Packaged: 2018-08-31 11:26:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8576686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilokheimsins/pseuds/ilokheimsins
Summary: Arthur has come to make good on a debt Saito owes SHIELD.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for i-reverse bang for this [piece](http://decodilapidation.tumblr.com/post/153235854627/second-art-submission-for-inception-reverse-bang)!

Saito waits until Robert has gone – the boy’s shoulders tight with fear, resignation, and frustration – before he allows himself to sigh.  It’s not that he doesn’t understand Robert’s issues with his father – perhaps he understands too well – it is that he cannot do anything about them until Browning attempts something.

Until then, he’s stuck waiting while the man circles like a shark, ingratiating himself into Maurice’s good graces while the man dies slowly.  The takeover needs to be timed perfectly, he needs to rip the company out of Maurice’s hands just before he dies in order to make use of the chaos and confusion to do away with Browning and keep Robert safe.

God knows the boy isn’t up to actually running a company.  No, Robert is more an artist than a patron of them, prefers to sculpt rather than conduct business.

Saito waves a lazy hand through the air and the lights beam on one after the other, their almost-white blue glow illuminating a row of Ironman suits.  Some are whole, some are missing parts, pieces scattered about them like they were left there while their creator nipped out for coffee.

They’ve been sitting there for days because Saito is ephemeral in his project interests.  One suit is in the process of having better defrost integrated into it, another is waiting for him to install the projectiles into the fingertips.

“You should finish some of these.”

A quiet voice comes from behind him and Saito stiffens, barely perceptible.

“Ah, good evening, Mr. Levine,” Jarvis greets.  “To which security loophole do we owe your presence?”

Saito can hear the hint of frustration behind Jarvis’ voice.  To date, Arthur has snuck into the tower thirty seven times and Jarvis has only managed to catch him thrice.

“I fixed it,” Arthur says nonchalantly.  “Don’t worry about it.”

There is a yawning silence that, if Jarvis were a lesser entity, would be filled with irritated grumbling.  It ends with Jarvis saying, perhaps a touch petulant, “Very well.  Do enjoy your visit.”

“I’ll try,” Arthur replies.

“I am a busy man,” Saito says when he feels the weight of Arthur’s expectant gaze again.

“Mmm,” Arthur hums.  Saito hears him pad quietly to the perimeter of the room, to the very first in the semi-circle of suits lining it.  He turns just enough to put Arthur back in his line of vision and watches the man run delicate fingers over the seams of the suit.  He’s still in his Black Widow suit, the specialized fabric blend molded tight to his body, and it makes Saito take a deep breath to compose himself.

It would be kidding himself to say that Arthur doesn’t know what the suit makes him look like.  Arthur is always aware of what he looks like.  It is, after all, why he looks devastatingly gorgeous and fuckably dangerous in suits that cost more money than even Saito spends on his.  They, like this one, are perfectly tailored to show off the curve of his ass and to flex around his thighs and back as he squats down to reach forward and pull at one of the armor’s legs.

“New plating?” Arthur inquires because he is nothing if not incredibly astute.

“Lighter,” Saito confirms.

Arthur stands again, a fluid movement that showcases the bunch and pull of his hamstrings in the play of shadow and light brought on by the armors.

“Cobb wants to know if you’ll come,” Arthur informs him.  It’s a small remark, delivered plainly – kind of a throwaway string of words going by the way Arthur just meanders down the line of armor, uncannily touching each one in the exact places Saito has made improvements.

“No,” Saito replies.

Arthur throws him a calculating, knowing glance in the half light.

“You owe him a debt, he said,” Arthur says, as if he doesn’t know exactly what sort of debt Saito owes.  It is, Saito has come to realize, absolutely futile to keep information from Arthur.  It doesn’t matter how deeply buried it is, Arthur has a way of turning it up.

 “I do,” he acknowledges instead of vehement denial.  “But it will not be called upon here.”

Arthur shrugs.

“I’ll let him know.”  Arthur finally turns to face Saito fully.  They stare at each other for a moment before Arthur nods at the mess of parts to his right.

“You really should finish some of these,” he says again in lieu of a farewell and walks out like he didn’t just drop in to ruin the last bits of Saito’s evening with his words about Cobb.

***

Saito smiles slowly, letting his victory uncurl across his features.  Robert will tell him later that this particular expression makes him look like a vicious dragon who has grown plump on its spoils – an apt metaphor, in Saito’s humble opinion.  Browning is going purple in the face as the last board member puts their signature down on the line.  Saito pays him little mind.  There’s nothing Browning can do at this point.  Saito owns 63% of the company’s shares, therefore taking over the company is nothing but the last little whip of cream on his cake.

He watches all the board members parade out, leaving him in a room with Browning and Robert.  The boy looks like he’s struggling to hide just how pleased he is.  Browning, conversely, looks like he’s moments from strangling Saito with his tie.

“How dare you,” Browning spits out.  White flecks out of his mouth and dots the table.  Saito pulls his face into a moue of distaste.

“It is very simple,” Saito says calmly.  “I wanted to, so I did.”

Browning pushes out of his chair, hoping to intimidate no doubt, but before he can do anything, Arthur steps into the room.  Saito sees him enter via the reflection on the window and doesn’t do anything as Arthur moves toward the table like he has infinite time.  The door locks behind him with a strangely final click and the see-through windows on it fade slowly into blackout mode.  Browning, clearly offset by the newcomer in the room, hesitates.  Arthur stops a step to Saito’s left and cocks his head ever so slightly, innocent gesture at odds with his sleek suit.

“Mr. Browning,” Arthur greets and pulls on a set of gloves.  They’re black and they smell of freshly oiled leather.  They gleam in the mid-afternoon sun as Arthur tests them by flexing his hands.  They creak softly and a pleased look comes across Arthur’s face.

“Robert,” Arthur nods at Robert, who looks surprised that Arthur knows his name.

Arthur settles himself down into the chair two to the left of Saito.  He crosses one leg over the other and then laces his hands together on his knee.  It’s a subtle intimidation but one that Browning clearly receives if the flighty, harrowed look he darts at Arthur’s face is an indication.  He doesn’t address Arthur though.

Instead, he glares at Saito and spits out, “I see how it is.”

And then, in what must be a fit of madness, he lunges for Saito.

Arthur flies across the table, fingers feather light on the table as he uses it to vault over to land a square kick to Browning’s chest with both feet.  He lands neatly on the other side and tugs at one of his cuffs to even it out.

“He might be too old to survive that,” Saito says dispassionately as they gaze at Browning, who wheezes and clutches at his chest.

“It’s amazing you think I care,” Arthur quips tonelessly and rounds back to Robert.

“Here,” he says, handing the boy a card, “call that if you need help.”

“Tell Cobb that his plot to get me to owe him favors will not work,” Saito mentions as Arthur passes by on his way out.

The smirk Arthur flashes him, a gleaming dangerous thing, in the reflection of the windows sends a pleased thrill up Saito’s spine.

“Oh, Saito, no.  These are favors you’ll be owing to me,” he says and then sweeps out gracefully.

Saito times out exactly another minute and a half before he calls security to deal with Browning.

***

“Do you make it one of your missions to bother me at inopportune moments?” Saito doesn’t bother looking up as he addresses Arthur, who has come slinking in through yet another security gap he’s likely already plugged up behind him.

“I might,” Arthur says from the far end of Saito’s lab.  He picks something up and puts it down again, interest evidently quickly quelled when the item doesn’t do anything particularly intriguing.  Saito keeps a distant track of Arthur’s meandering voyage towards him but he doesn’t invest any particular attention in the task.

He only looks up when Arthur drops something on his work bench.  It’s a square roughly the size of his palm with a light taking up the majority of it.

“A summons, then,” Saito says, mildly amused by the quaintness of it.

“A flashing light, but yeah, you could call it that,” Arthur replies, blithe and easy.

“I still will not help Cobb.  You were there the last time,” Saito takes in the grimace Arthur makes at his words.  “Why do you still help a man who would betray you like that?”

“He did it for his kids,” Arthur says, but his words are flat; the result of constant repetition than any real belief.

“I won’t do it for him.”

“For me then.”

Saito looks up again and finds that Arthur has seen fit to lean against the table.  He’s dressed in casual wear, or as casual as Arthur ever gets.  His sleeves are rolled up and his tie is off, his shirt unbuttoned down to the second one.  His hair is just beginning to loosen and curl out of its perfect slicked back position and his lips are redder than normal.  He looks…mussed – post orgasmic almost, Saito thinks, most unwisely.

“For you, Mr. Levine?” Saito purrs out and Arthur’s eyes darken at the implication of it.

He leans forward and licks his lips, a quick dart of his tongue.  His pupils dilate and he smiles, a feral expression that bares his teeth.  In the shadow of the light that Saito is working under, he looks like seduction, angles and smoke broken up by glittering eyes and glittering teeth.

“For me,” Arthur confirms.

Saito would lean forward and complete the last few inches between them, but he is a man who does not bend to his desires and he knows that, should he bend to them this time, it will end poorly for him.

“No, Arthur,” Saito says quietly, almost wistful, “not even for you.”

***

 _Saito’s Latest Lover?_ is what every headline screams, because clearly his romantic affairs are more important than all other world affairs.  He can’t possibly see how this could have made the front page of any paper except the gossip mags and then he picks one up out of sheer curiosity.  Everyone in the store is doing their best not to not look at him, which makes him wonder yet again why he’s out among the people in a convenience store.

Ariadne is surprisingly convincing when she wants him to do something she deems “good for his health”.

The photo on the cover makes the barest hint of a smirk appear on his face.  It’s Arthur, buttoned up in his favorite suit, snarling superiorly at something out of frame while protecting someone just out of the photo.  Saito knows the little smattering of rainbow birds on Robert’s wrist well enough to know that it’s him Arthur is attempting to get out of danger.  But it’s not that protective instinct that would make Arthur front page material.

No, it’s the way his suit, much too tight about the ass, clings to it and looks moments from simply giving up the ghost and exploding off him.  It’s the few buttons unbuttoned at his clavicle and the way his waistcoat cinches in tight around his narrow waist.  Saito flips to page seven, where there are a surprising number of pictures of him and Arthur interacting.  Some he remembers quite distinctly:  there’s one where he smiled genuinely at Arthur as he mocked one of the rich men present trying to convince all present that he was The Person To Know, another where he has a hand on Arthur’s wrist – a romantic moment where they’re gazing at each other from an outside perspective – but really he’d been passing Arthur the newest set of widow bite cuffs as he ran off.

There are yet other moments Saito has no memory of and he has a strong suspicion that they’ve been photoshopped and ‘leaked’ to the press.  He purchases the magazine because it’s actually somewhat hilarious and a whole box of pop tarts for Yusuf as an incentive to keep the explosions to a minimum.  When he gets back to the tower, Arthur is standing in the fortieth floor lobby, a beautiful, tightly controlled fury that has a near perfect circle of space around him as people circumvent him out of self-preservation.

The moment he catches Saito’s eye, he turns swiftly on one heel and stalks, graceful as any feline predator, towards the nearest empty room.  People step back as he moves towards them, parting like the sea before Moses.  Saito follows at a more bemused rate and stops long enough to ask Ariadne to bring them some good tea and maybe some whiskey as well?

Ariadne rolls her eyes and waves him on but promises that she’ll get them refreshments.  Saito barely has the door closed and locked behind him when Arthur whirls about and says, deadly calm, “I’m going to kill Cobb.”

“Oh?”

“This,” Arthur hisses and his eyes snap shut.  He takes a deep, forced breath and unclenches his hands.

“This shit in the magazines,” he starts again, “is manufactured by Cobb.  He thought.  I don’t fucking know what he was thinking.”

“You could leave,” Saito says mildly.  He sets down the pop tarts and curiously pulls one out.  It tastes like sugar and lies and Saito can see how Yusuf would find them enticing.

Arthur cuts him a disbelieving glance.

“You know I won’t.”

Won’t.  Not can’t.  It’s a clear distinction with Arthur and he knows that Arthur has used the word on purpose.  And he knows Saito will pick up on that little change.  Just like he knows Saito knows why he won’t leave Cobb.  Arthur is loyal even when it burns him; he’ll break himself before he betrays his loyalties.  It’s one of the qualities that makes Saito want to press gentle kisses to his forehead and muss his hair until he looks young and in need of safety again.  That Arthur is long since gone – bottled up and encased into this diamond of a man made of sharp suits and sharper edges topped with perfect hair, a brutal mind, and an even more brutal hand.

“I’ll fix this,” Arthur declares.  Saito wisely doesn’t mention that he’s not sure how Arthur will fix this but the mulish look Arthur swivels to plant on him says that he’ll figure it out.

Arthur doesn’t quite stomp out, but it’s a very close thing and he still politely holds open the door for Ariadne when he gets there.  Ariadne looks at Arthur’s retreating form and down at her tray, which has tea for two and a bottle of expensive whiskey on it.

“I’m guessing you don’t need this anymore,” she says tentatively.

“No, I’ll take it still.”

Ariadne nods and tips her head after Arthur’s retreating form, “Should I arrange for someone to send him chocolates?  Arthur looks like he’s having A Day.”

Saito hums in agreement; mildly ashamed at the way he recognizes that the phrase ‘a day’ has been capitalized.  Ariadne had diligently broken down the linguistics of people her age to him and it still baffles and fascinates him how they can say so much by just changing their tone.

“Perhaps the chocolate draped eclairs from the café down the street from SHIELD,” Saito suggests.

Ariadne raises her brows at him.

“He likes them,” Saito says childishly.  He feels an inexplicable urge to defend his knowledge of Arthur’s preferences in pastries.

“Uh huh,” Ariadne says and then leaves it at that.  Her ability to figure out the perfect times to needle him and to leave him alone are, after all, one of the reasons Saito still keeps her on.

“Yes,” Saito agrees.

“Whatever you say, boss man.”

***

Saito never gets to find out how Arthur plans on fixing things because the very next day, every news outlet is screaming about an attack on one of the buildings located in lower Manhattan.  There’s some sort of field around the building that’s preventing anyone from going in or leaving and one newscaster looks horrified as she soldiers through her report.  Behind her, the building crumbles on one side, several figures leaping out as it disintegrates.

One of them skids down the energy field, leaving scorching blue trails behind.  The others, either not as athletic or otherwise dead already, don’t fare as well.  The camera zooms in on the person sliding down the field as they hit ground and the brief blurry flash is enough for Saito to identify Arthur, which means that the building currently falling to pieces must be SHIELD’s.

He’s barely hit ground for more than a few moments before the sky cracks open and a horde drops through.  Arthur is decked out in full Black Widow regalia, judging by the way he’s an inky blur, but no matter how he fights, the stream never seems to end.

“Sir,” Jarvis interrupts Saito gently.  “You have a missive from Mr. Levine.”

Saito waves a hand to open the communication holo, his eyes still riveted on the news.  Arthur flickers up on the holo, a huge gash across his forehead that bleeds steadily.  He whirls around to take out something that looks entirely alien before grimacing and focusing back in on the screen.

“I don’t care about your debt,” he spits out, “but there are children in the bunker in the basement.”

The message cuts out there as Arthur severs another creature’s head from its neck, taking out the comm’s power in the process.

“Sir, I have confirmed that there are indeed ten children located in the bunker in SHIELD’s basement,” Jarvis informs him.

“Why were there children?” Saito asks.  He glances down at his hands to find that they’re gripped so hard around the table that his knuckles have paled, an effort that he hasn’t even noticed.

“SHIELD was holding a tour of their facilities,” Jarvis says.

“Give me a report on Arthur’s vitals,” Saito orders as he calls his armor to him.  Pieces fly across the room as Jarvis lists the increasingly long and worrying number of Arthur’s injuries: cracked ribs, a gunshot to the hip, the wound on his head that’s losing blood at an alarming rate.  The list keeps growing as Jarvis faithfully recites each and every one of the injuries that Arthur is clearly still ignoring, judging by the news report that’s still showcasing him fighting.  The camera has trained in on Arthur and Saito has to refrain from closing his eyes every time Arthur takes another hit.  He’s lagging dangerously and Saito swipes his hand angrily through the air to get his armor to assemble faster.  The last piece clicks into place and Saito bursts out of the building, uncaring of the way the glass window shatters.

“ETA at one minute, seven seconds, sir,” Jarvis reports.

“Report on the state of SHIELD,” Saito says.

Jarvis dutifully relays the number of casualties, injuries, and active agents currently in play.

“Should I ping for the rest of the Avengers?”

A flash of irritation bursts through Saito at the thought of having to deal with Cobb but he pushes it down and grinds out an affirmative.

“Paging the Avengers,” Jarvis confirms.

Saito says nothing in return.

***

“Cobb is assembling the Avengers,” Jarvis says as Saito descends on SHIELD.  “Hawkeye is providing sniper support.”

His statement is punctuated by an arrow whizzing narrowly past Saito’s head and embedding itself into an enemy.

“Hi boss!” Ariadne says perkily through the comm.

“…Hawkeye,” Saito says hesitantly.

“Yeah, sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.  Cobb said I wasn’t allowed to,” Ariadne chirps brightly.  Another arrow speeds past and detonates as it impacts one of the doors.  “Your way to the bunker is clear.  I’m going to go lend the Black Widow support.”

“See that you do,” Saito intones and stalks towards the cleared opening.

He’s just heading down when a roar shakes the building and someone has evidently given Arthur a new comm line because he snaps out, irritated and exhausted, “Who called the Hulk?  This entire place is about to come down.  He’s just going to make it worse.”

As if to emphasize his point, something collides with the building and the floor above Saito buckles ominously, its support beams groaning as it caves.

“Jarvis, give me a lock on the children,” Saito says and jumps down the stairs just as the ceiling gives up completely and collapses.

“Continue down one more floor and then the third door on your right, sir.  Agent Mal is with them right now, though my sensors do indicate a number of hostiles closing in on their position.”

The building shakes again and Saito makes a snap decision, blasting a hole in the floor.  He drops through it straight into the midst of a horde.  Everything pauses for a moment and then a gunshot rings out, dropping the enemy directly in front of him to reveal Mal reloading.

“Ironman,” she grits out in greeting.  “You are late.”

“I was most unaware that you had set a time for a rendezvous,” Saito replies and fires at the form nearest to him.  It bursts in a wave of blue goo and Saito barely dodges it.

“Aim for the head,” Mal shouts over her gun.  “You get less ooze that way.”

Saito does as she says and thins out the horde with much less mess.  The building shakes again and a huge mass comes crashing through the floor above, shattering the stairs.  Mal swears viciously.

“Yusuf!  You are not authorized for this!” She screams as the Hulk picks himself up and shakes like a dog.

Yusuf blinks at her and then condescendingly pats her on the head before jumping back through the hole.

“Yusuf!  You are on suspension after this,” Mal shouts after him.  She huffs and then scrubs a hand over her face, leaving streaks of gunpowder.

“At least he squashed the rest of them,” she grumbles.  “Help me with the children.”

She picks her way to one of the many closed and taps it three times, pauses for a moment, and then taps it twice more.  The door whips open and one of the children launches herself out and clutches at Mal.

“I didn’t think you were coming back,” she sniffles.  “There were so many of them.  But I kept everyone safe.”

“So you did,” Mal says proudly.  The girl puffs up at the praise.  Another tremor runs through the building and Mal’s face goes grim.

“How many can you carry at once?” She asks.

“Four,” Saito says.  “Though if you have something they can all sit in, I am able to carry more.”

There’s a cabinet welded to a wall in the corner and Saito moves over to it.  The metal squeals as he yanks it free and the children wince at the sound.  He rips the doors open and lays it flat on the ground.

“Children, get in,” Mal orders and they scramble to obey.  She turns to him and asks, “Get them out first.  I can follow on my own.”

The building shakes again and Saito says, “I doubt the building will hold long enough and Arthur would never forgive me for leaving you behind.”

Understanding suddenly blooms across Mal’s face and she mutters to herself, “So it is you.”

To him, she says, “Very well.  I suppose I will be riding on your back then?”

“That would be best I believe,” Saito agrees.  Mal anchors her hands to his shoulders and heaves herself up.  She locks her arms around his neck and says, “I am ready.”

“Put your head against your knees and your hands behind your head,” he tells the children and they do as he says.  He closes the door over them as best he can after he’s verified that they’re as safe as he can make them.

“Jarvis?”

“Sir.”

“Give me the best route out of here.”

“Calculating,” Jarvis notes.  “The most ideal route would be straight up, sir.  A blow to this room has the least possibility of bringing the supports of this building down.”

Saito pushes the cabinet out of the way and fires upwards.  When the dust settles, he blasts the floor above.  Mal coughs as the cloud of debris particles descends on them.  Saito picks up the cabinet and fires off his boots.

“Sir, the weight limit…”

“I know,” Saito grits out.  “I need enough power for thirty seconds.”

“If the cooling systems are turned off, energy can be redirected into flight.”

“Do it,” Saito orders.  Immediately the temperature begins to rise but the time for flight left jumps an extra fifteen seconds and Saito uses it to propel them up to the main floor.  The building groans ominously and Saito redirects all remaining energy to his boots, rocketing them forward and out.  He drops the cabinet as gently as possible and lands.  Mal is off of him even before he touches ground.  She opens the cabinet and takes stock of the children.

She herds them out of their space and out of the way, taking stock of injuries all the way.  Saito provides cover fire until they’ve reached an area Mal is capable of holding on her own.  He turns away then to continue fighting the horde that seems to be pouring out of the sky endlessly.

“Black Widow needs support,” Ariadne shouts into the comm.  “At your six, boss!”

He turns just in time to see Arthur take a vicious blow to the head that knocks him to the ground.

***

Arthur blinks awake.  The world is a blur and it takes several moments for it to focus.  Depressingly enough, he’s been in medical enough to tell he’s in a hospital of some kind just by the ceiling tiles and sterile, white walls.  He takes a quick catalogue of what he can and can’t feel and comes quickly to the conclusion that he must have been out for several days at least, given that he can feel the aching in his ribs though it no longer feels like being stabbed when he breathes.

He pushes the call button and hisses when the movement jostles his aching ribs.  He’s nearly drifted back off when the door opens to admit a nurse with Saito in tow.  She raises his bed until he’s sitting instead of lying down and then tuts at him.

“Mr. Levine,” she says, incredibly unimpressed by his state of being.  “You’ve sustained enough injury that the shock of it would have killed someone normal.”

She darts an annoyed glance at Saito, “Though I’ve been informed you are somewhat above normal.”

“You will be discharged once your ribs have healed up and the muscle damage from the laser shot seals up,” she says.

Arthur nods dutifully as she lists off which of his injuries will be stuck in a cast and how she expects him to use a wheelchair to move places.  He immediately makes plans to get rid of the wheelchair until she says, “Those are the conditions to you being released under the care of Mr. Saito.  If you should break any of these terms, you will be here until you have made a full recovery.”

“Wait, why his care?” He asks.

“Director Cobb has terminated your SHIELD contract and as per protocol, your assets have been frozen for two weeks immediately following,” she informs him.  “Your current bills are being paid for by Mr. Saito, and as such, he has the custody of you until you are capable of paying for yourself.”

Arthur can’t even muster a glare at Saito.  He just feels incredibly exhausted and yet somewhat freed.  His loyalty to Cobb that hung over him like an ever present guillotine has disappeared and he accepts it when Saito takes his hand when the nurse leaves.

“You came for me, huh.”

“Arthur,” Saito says quietly.  “I will always come for you.  You must know this by now.”

“To pay your debt to Cobb, is it,” he says in the vein of a joke.  It falls flat though and Saito shakes his head.

“My debt to Cobb is separate from you.  If Cobb were to disappear, I would still come for you.”

“I don’t need you to,” Arthur says stubbornly.

“No,” Saito gives him a small smile.  “You have not needed anyone to for a long time.  But it does not hurt for you to accept it when it comes.”

“…We’re not talking about your help anymore, are we,” Arthur says slowly.

“No.”

Arthur sighs hugely and looks down at where Saito’s thumb is making gentle circles against the back of his wrist.  He tightens his grip as much as he can and says, “I suppose it wouldn’t be too bad.”

“I’m particularly fond of dinner,” Saito says.

“Dinner sounds great,” Arthur agrees.

Someone whoops from outside the door and a scuffle breaks out outside.  The handle drops and the door swings open, spilling the rest of the Avengers into the room.  Arthur raises an eyebrow at them and Mal picks herself up and dusts herself off.

“Eames owes me fifty dollars because he said you would not accept,” she says imperiously.

“I didn’t think he would,” Eames grumbles.

“I think it’s sweet,” Ariadne tells him.

“Oh, darling, it is,” Eames agrees.  “But I didn’t think he would say yes.”

Arthur clears his throat loudly and the three of them turn to look at him.

“Get out,” he says.  “I’ll talk to you all later.”

Mal blows him a kiss and then drags the other two out by the arm, “Goodbye, Arthur!  Have fun on your date.”

Ariadne has the decency to shut the door behind them and silence descends in their wake.

“What happened with the rest of the horde?”

“Yusuf and I provided ground support while Ariadne found and shot out the generator that was keeping the portal open,” Saito says.

“Did the children get out alright?”

“Yes.  There were several minor injuries but nothing medical was incapable of patching up within the hour,” Saito replies.

Arthur breathes out a sigh of relief and winces when the movement tugs at his sore ribs.

“How long until I can leave?”

“Whenever you’ve been cleared.”

“I don’t suppose you could move that along,” Arthur teases.

“Not even for you,” Saito says with a small smile.  “I do have your best interests at heart.  Though I suppose Cobb giving you a SHIELD medical team shows he still cares about you.”

“Haven’t you heard?” Arthur smiles wryly.  “I’ve been fired.  I have no more loyalties to Cobb.”

“I suppose this means I’ll be getting a new debt collector,” Saito says.

“Mm, I don’t think so,” Arthur says thoughtfully.  “One of the conditions of your debt clearing was helping if SHIELD should ever come under attack.”

“I only came because you were hurt,” Saito tells him.

Arthur shrugs and grimaces when that jostles his ribs again.

“Doesn’t matter,” he says.  “Conditions are conditions and you filled it.  So you’re free.”

“Does this mean you won’t be popping into my tower at inopportune moments anymore,” Saito says bemusedly.

“I’m going to be living there until I’m healed up, so I’ll be there for all the inopportune moments now.”

“So you will,” Saito agrees.

Ariadne shoves the door open and yells, “just fucking kiss already,” before yanking it shut.

“You know,” Arthur says thoughtfully, “none of them are as good as I am at getting into your tower.  So if you got me out of here faster, we could kiss in peace.”

“Are you bribing me?”

“Absolutely.  Is it working?”

“Absolutely,” Saito says and stands.  “I will be talking with the nurses immediately.”

He pauses for a moment and then leans down to press a gentle kiss to Arthur’s forehead.  Ariadne whoops from outside and Saito barely refrains from rolling his eyes.  Arthur has no such qualms and he shoos Saito out.

“Go get me out of here.”

Saito exits the room to the excited squabbling of Mal and Ariadne.  The sound dies out as he closes the door behind him and Arthur, for the first time in years, lets himself drift off without the vice of his loyalties around his neck.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm pretty sure that's not actually how custody of injured persons at a hospital work but we gon' roll with it.


End file.
